


Unfinished WIP: DeiIno - Happy Birthday DeGlace!

by moor



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Space AU, or maybe Cowbow Bebop AU, think GotG-style AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 20:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12849111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moor/pseuds/moor
Summary: DeiIno. Guardians of the Galaxy/Cowboy Bebop-style AU. Part 1.





	Unfinished WIP: DeiIno - Happy Birthday DeGlace!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeGlace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeGlace/gifts).



“You know who my partner is,” said Ino over the comm as her personal jet-ship navigated the solar waves bouncing off the planet below. “If she isn’t available, I’m doing this solo.” **  
**   
“If you had a choice, you could have her. But we need someone familiar to get you in, and this guy needs us to make him legit, so we’re going to play nicely with him until we don’t need each other anymore,” sighed Shikamaru. “Complaining will get you nowhere.”

“I’m going to do it anyway.”

“Suit yourself. I’m muting you.”

“What! Shikamaru, I swear, if you make me—”

“Since I can’t hear what you’re saying anymore, I’m going to continue along with what I was saying. I just sent you the coordinates for the pick-up point. This guy is tall, and more suited to long-range attacks. He’s on parole, though, and not likely to cause you any problems since he’s looking to make some connections and network.”

“That wasn’t what I agreed to. I’m going to—”

“Fair warning, this guy is a little bit well-known. You’ll need to mind yourself in public spaces, at least until you get to the ball.” Shikamaru took a lazy drag of his contraband cigarette. “It’ll get out if you’re get seen travelling together. Also, he’s a ladies man.”

“When I get back, we’re going to have a long, slow, definitely painful talk about the work distribution, you—”

“Looks like he’s hailing you. Good luck,” said Shikamaru as a secondary comm light blinked in the corner of her screen. Gnashing her teeth, Ino snarled and jammed her finger on the Accept button that had popped up with the new call.

“Secure communication open. Yamanaka online. State your name and business,” she barked.

“Who taught you such shitty customer service skills, yeah?”

“Yamanako. Online. Name. Business,” repeated Ino, eyes narrowing on the fuzzy image broadcast to her screen. The solar flares must’ve been interfering again. They always did in this sector. The old mining colony on the surface hadn’t updated their equipment in generations. It was a wonder any of it still worked.

… and really, it was likely infected with decrepit viruses, and did she want funky, outdated malware on her state-of-the-art, intergalactic, fantastic ship?

Notsomuch.

There was a haughty throat-clearing from the other end of the crackly line, leaving Ino plenty of time to clench her fists and jaw and then fists again. This kind of stress was very bad for her health, Shikamaru knew that.

In fact, it was so bad she really shouldn’t expose herself to it.

“Didn’t make that out. Must be a bad connection,” said Ino, suddenly calm. She turned up the volume and held a pair of headphones close to the mic receiver, upping the static. “That’s pretty bad. Sounds like you have some terrible weather,” she remarked, gazing down at the clear expanse of tundra below, unobstructed by even the lightest cumulus cloud, though the pollution left a yellow-brown, filmy haze over the entire surface. Yeah, she was not taking her baby down there.

“Stop playing around. I’m at the West-101st pad, fourth deck. Hurry up already,” groused the man, the stupid client she was supposed to be escorting.

“Not cleared for entry, no response to Name and Business repeated requests. Turning back,” replied Ino, serene. Nope. Nope, nope, nope. She was not taking her immaculate ship into that mucky atmosphere, no sirree bob. Shikamaru would need to send someone else.

“WHAT? No, you can’t—” The man’s voice grew agitated, louder and stronger as if he’d suddenly stood up taller. “You need to come get me, now.”

“Unfortunately our professional association membership dictates strict adherence to inter-orbital planetary transportation protocol,” said Ino, leaning back in her captain’s chair and manoeuvering the ship smartly away from the path of the next solar flare, rebounding off its waves and using the tangent to position the bow of her ship back out towards the cosmos. With a tap of her thumb she warmed the thrusters. As her fingers shifted she noted her left index fingernail definitely needed a fill. Yep, she officially had an emergency to attend to elsewhere. 

With a content sigh she put on her best customer service voice, as requested. “We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause and do hope to do business with you again in the future. From Ninja-and-Ninja-Escort-Inc, we thank you for your—”

Her words caught in her throat as she felt her ship slow to a crawl then begin turning back towards the surface, uncommanded.

The hair on her bare arms stood on end.

_What the—_

Well, uncommanded from her own primary control panel. Just to the left of the main comm screen she saw the orange Remote Override LED glowing like an admonishing traffic light.

Then all she saw was red.

“You forgot something,” drawled Shikamaru’s voice over the primary comm channel.

*****

Deidara hurried from the dwindling safety of the landing deck’s barricaded bay doors, the keeping to the shadows of the storage overhang until the transport ship hovered to a stop and connected to the airlocks with a hiss.

“‘Bout damn time,” he muttered, glancing back at the noisy, locked doors behind him. The banging and yelling on the other side were getting louder, the seal straining and inching open, wider and wider with every breath. “C’mon, c’mon, yeah.”

With a muted, metallic  _chunk-shhh-bang_  the ship’s engines muted from their landing to a steady, idling  _purr-hum_  that impressed Deidara. That was a finely tuned piece of machinery. Someone took very good care of this ship for it to run so well after passing through the smog barrier.

With an athletic gait he jogged to the comm panel within the airlock, tapping on the blinking LED.

“Ready to board, yeah,” he said, trying not to sound too eager.

Behind him the bay doors resonated with a heavy, violent bludgeoning of metal-on-metal as angry voices rose louder and louder. They were trying to ram their way through. He shifted on his feet.

“Ready to board,” he repeated, breathing coming faster. He resisted the urge to knock, though it was a close thing. “Open up.”

“Secure communication open. Yamanaka online,” replied a soul-less feminine voice.

Deidara opened his mouth to speak when the voice continued, unrelenting.

“Welcome to Ninja-and-Ninja-Escort-Inc., we look forward to seeing you safely to your destination. We’d like to take a moment to thank you for choosing Ninja-and-Ninja-Escort-Inc., the galaxy’s safest, most secure, most reliable transportation network. Rated number one in customer satisfaction for the last four millennia, Ninja-and-Ninja-Escort-Inc. strives to meet your every expectation, whether it be comfortable lodgings, master-class-chef catered meals, or—”

“Open the door, damnit!” He hissed, muscles of his chest bunching as he tensed at a particularly loud  _bang!_ from behind him.

Deidara’s hands shook as he banged on the airlock doors, his visible cerulean eye widening as his face tightened. The crack in the bay doors behind him widened. He could see the hints of the yellow-orange-and-black uniforms peeking through like malevolent little wasps seeking to swarm him.

“—even just delivering those secure documents you forgot to collect the night before. Your transport with Ninja-and-Ninja-Escort-Inc. will be the highlight of our day, no matter the time—” here the soul-less voice seemed to yawn for a second.

Deidara swallowed a growl of frustration, reaching beneath his midnight cloak for the nearest pocket on his cargo-pocketed suit. Could he jimmy the doors open fast enough without permanently damaging them?

“—or the day.”

The voice cut off and Deidara turned to the comm panel again in desperation.

“Hey, yeah, you there? Hello?”

“Yamanaka online. State your name and business.”

Deidara nearly cracked his teeth from clenching them so hard. This was the most infuriating on-board computer he’d ever met. It was probably based on some antiquated, mid-millennia, overweight, lazy bureaucrat. It sure sounded like one. A droid likely piloted it, too, and probably looked exactly like a paunchy, has-been doormat. Ugh. This situation was swiftly shifting from bad to worse.

“Name: Iwano Deidara. Business: High-impact, special-interest exports. Requesting permission to board,” he demanded, gripping each side of the airlock’s frame in his gloved hands, as if he were about to rip it bracket from bracket. “Immediate permission,” he added as the voices behind him became clear and triumphant. Crap, they’d cracked the bay door seals.

“One moment please,” lamented out the feminine voice—Yamanaka—in a somehow robotic, saccharine falsetto.

Deidara could not believe how little she cared about him (and his business) at that moment. He was a paying customer! He was going to leave one helluva nasty review on their site when he was done.

… well, okay, payment upon delivery… and… yeah—wait, why wasn’t the door opening?

A screeching-metal sound erupted from behind him, leaving Deidara jamming his fingers on the comm panel.

“Hey, you’re late and now you’re making me wait! I demand to speak to a supervisor!”

Then, to his horror, the thruster lights began to glow.

A shiver ran down his spine. They wouldn’t leave him, would they? They wouldn’t, right?

The engines thrummed to attention and the purring increased to a heady, heavy roar.

Deidara panicked.

“Open up! Open up! Open up the damn doors, you bunch of nuts, bolts and A.I. bi—”

A flash blinded him for a second as the airlock doors suddenly  _ssshhhhnnngg’ed_ open. The light behind his host—hostess, he quickly corrected himself—glowed silvery white, like stars designed specifically to outline her like a holy, celestial being and render him speechless with awe.

She was slender, fit, and strong. Young, possibly a few years younger than he.

Her nearly translucent silver hair was so long it reached her lower back, even tied back in a high ponytail, and her eyes left him breathless. She stood tall with her hip cocked, chin lifted, and shoulders square, the picture of confidence and poise.

Then she lifted a short-range blaster and pointed it at his neck and shot him at point-blank range.

Behind Deidara he heard a man call out in pain before dropping to the ground.

Still standing, his mouth dry, Deidara’s hands went numb in shock. The shot had been less than a hair from his throat, and his skin still tingled with the nearness of the beam. His knees wavered.

Meanwhile, the woman tsk’ed and turned around to head back into her ship.

“Welcome to Ninja-and-Ninja. Your home away from home,” the voice he’d just referred to as ‘antiquated’ called to him in disinterest as she tapped the comm panel with her wrist, no doubt where her ID chip was implanted. “Carry your shit to your quarters and don’t talk to me unless you need something,” her holiness muttered, shoulder sagging.

Deidara wasn’t sure whether to approach in fear or reverence or both.

So he settled for following her ethereal backside through the airlock.

**Author's Note:**

> @actuallydeglace , thank you for writing so many stories that have had me crying with laughter.
> 
> I hope you had a fantastic birthday, and got to eat lots of cake! (And got boatloads of bling. Emphasis on the bling.)


End file.
